


A Nightmare To Remember

by Mystik



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Gore, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystik/pseuds/Mystik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was fourteen the first time he killed someone, the end result messy and bloody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by Kiraynn. Written for a prompt by Evileve18. Title taken from a song of Dream Theater.

Dean was fourteen the first time he killed someone, the end result messy and bloody. The victim was his father's friend; a guy who practically lived in the bar and constantly drank with John. Dean had gone inside the bar to search for his father on the fourth night he was missing and the man followed him out after John had pretty much expelled Dean from the building.

The man was tall and thin like a twig, but had a bruising and strong grip. Unfortunately for him though, Dean's dad had been a marine and had taught Dean everything he knew about weapons and all forms of fighting.

The guy hadn't stood a chance.

 

Dean watched the puddle of blood grow beneath the man who had tried to touch him, the rugged face unrecognizable. And a smile touched Dean's lips before he turned around and walked away.

Sammy was waiting for him back home.

* * *

The first time Sam killed someone, he was twelve years old. It was perfect but bloody. Dean taught him everything he knew about how to turn the knife inside the body, which places he should cut to draw more blood, and when to stop before the person passed out from the pain he inflicted.

Sam did all of that, his chest swelling with pride every time he felt the weight of Dean's approving eyes on his back.

When the cops found their dad's body, they were miles away with nothing but the open road and the world at their feet.

 

Just Dean and Sam against the world.

 

 

TBC.


	2. Chapter one

**_Twelve years later._ **

****

"Okay guys, looks like we have a big case on our hands."

 

Hendrickson smirked as everyone else groaned. He turned off the lights and turned on the slides machine. Sounds of disgust filled the room as numerous pictures of mutilated bodies appeared on the view screen.

"What the hell are those, boss?" a member of the group asked, unease evident in their voice.

"Those, my friends, are the victims of two of the most evil bastards I've ever seen in my life. The Winchester brothers."

Hendrickson's next slide was of two men.

"Meet the older brother, Dean," he pointed to the shorter one, then the taller, "and the younger brother, Samuel."

"They are responsible for those... those mutilations?" inquired a brunette.

"The FBI has been on their tails for around eight years. But for the first time we have some actual pictures of their faces and a more detailed file about them." He gestured to the packs of papers on the table in front of everyone and started reading his own aloud: "At ages twelve and sixteen respectively, the brothers' first victim was their own father, John Winchester. They apparently disappeared not long after, tracks covered so completely that not even Social Services could find them. The best theory is that they made their way to Canada and stayed for some undetermined amount of time.

"The next victims we know about were a friend of their father's, Ellen Harvelle, and her daughter Jo. On these murders they evolved and took their time, drawing out the torture and deaths as long as possible. That kind of evolution leads us to have suspicions that there are unknown victims in Canada, too, that they may have practiced on."

One of the guys raised his hand. "If we have their faces and an extensive profile like that, how is it possible they haven't been caught yet?"

The head agent sighed. "That's the problem right there. The photo was taken because they didn't know that their last victim's house had cameras installed. Every person who has tried to take them down before ended up like those mutilated bodies."

Everybody started talking at the same time, voicing their concerns and immediate theories about the case, the victims, and the brothers. But they fell silent as Hendrickson cleared his throat.

"The only way to have a better leverage is to separate those two. And now we've arrived at what the plan should be because since their father's death they have never, to our knowledge, been apart." He took a deep breath. "Okay guys, time to make those brains work."

* * *

"Fuck, Dean..."

Unable to find his voice, Dean could only nod in agreement. He hugged Sam closer and fucked into him deeper. Sam closed his hands into fists against the cool, slick tiles of the shower wall, his eyes closed tightly and his breath labored. Their skin burned from the water raining down on them; the sex even hotter in the steam cloud that had formed throughout the bathroom.

Dean's right hand pumped Sam's painfully hard cock, luscious mouth kissing and biting his shoulder blades as the thrust of his hips sped up.

"God Sammy, always so tight for me..."

Sam groaned in response and rested his forehead against the tiles. Dean pulled him even closer against his equally soaked body, their combined movements becoming rougher. Sam smiled and licked his lips, lost in his pleasure, and felt his balls pull tightly. His body dangerously close to the edge. Nothing like a fresh kill to make the sex even more amazing.

"Dean, fuck! I'm gonna…" Sam cut off with a gasp. His fist slammed against the wall as he came, cock throbbing in his brother's hand.

"Sam…" Dean groaned, squeezing his little brother's cock, milking for all it was worth. Reaching the peak himself, he continued to thrust as he filled the younger man with his thick, hot seed.

Sam sighed as his euphoria slowly ended, body still sandwiched between his brother and the shower wall. Dean laughed softly against Sam's shoulder blades, nuzzling the wet skin. He slowly eased his spent dick from Sam's ass then turned him around, his fingers lingering in the shallow cut on his forearm.

"Still hurts?"

"Nah," Sam smiled, "just burns a little. Nothing a patch can't solve." He kissed Dean's pouty lips. "The guy who did it got worse in return, anyway."

Dean kissed him back with a laugh.

Out of the shower they dried each other with fluffy, white towels between kisses and lingering touches. Dean opened the door and looked at Sam over his shoulder.

"Hey, pay attention to the floor."

"Okay."

 

Sam tied the towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom, taking care to not step where pools of blood had soaked into the carpet. He dropped his duffle onto the queen sized bed to dig inside for some fresh clothes. He barely glanced at the two corpses on the center of the bed, freshly carved with newly sharpened knives not even half an hour prior.

"Hey check this out, Sammy."

The younger man looked up and smiled as Dean held up a bag full of money. "So he _**was** _ rich. He lied."

"Well, it's not like we can make him suffer anymore."

Sam laughed, putting on his clothes and closing his duffel. He sat on the edge of the soiled bed to slip on his sneakers that Dean tossed to him.

"Where we going next?"

Dean stepped between Sam's spread legs, fingers carding through his wet hair. Sam closes his eyes and leaned into the touch with a purr.

"Maybe we should celebrate before we move on to the next town."

Sam moved forward to rub his face against Dean's stomach, inhaling the masculine scent that he always associated with his brother. His everything.

"I want some beer."

Dean laughed, sliding his fingers through his hair one more time before he stepped away. "Come on, baby boy. Let's hit the bar."

 

They left the house almost five minutes before the police arrived.

* * *

"Good God."

 

Hendrickson agreed with the other agent's breathless shock, his eyes taking in every ounce of the crime scene: The pools of blood, the couple completely carved like Halloween pumpkins, the way no furniture was even out of place which indicated the lack of a struggle. He doubted there were even any usable fingerprints on anything.

"Agent Hendrickson, come here for a second!"

Hendrickson stepped away from the grisly scene and met with one of the forensics men in the bathroom. He was frowning as he put some bags away.

"Agent Spader, what is it?"

The younger man, held up a bag containing some samples of blood and semen. "We found evidences of sexual activity here in the bathroom and when compared to the estimated time of death of our victims, the samples seem to be more fresh. Which means-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Hendrickson quickly interrupted, feeling nauseous.

Agent Spader nodded, the very thought making him sick. He gave the evidence bag to one of the newer agents to take to the lab.

"Do you think they're still in town?" he asked the dark haired man.

"I hope so."

"Hendrickson!"

Both man turned at the voice to see one of the rookies, Agent Ford, approach with a slight smile on his face.

"What is it?"

"Good news, we might have some lead to where the Winchesters will go next."

"What? How?"

"The police department just sent us this shot." Ford showed them a picture of a black muscle car with the two brothers inside.

"Good." Hendrickson rubbed his chin, the gears in his mind already turning. "I want a license plate ASAP, and then send both pictures to every town in the area. I want someone spotting them a mile away."

"Yes sir."

Hendrickson sighed as Ford walked away with his task. "I'm going to lock you up, Winchesters. Mark my words."

* * *

One week later, Sam and Dean were three towns over deciding on who to pick for their next victim. A single woman, perhaps? Or another couple?

 

They decided to cease the search for a few hours in favor of stopping at a local bar. Sam claimed a booth for them in a dark corner of the room and stretched his legs contentedly, waiting for Dean to get their drinks. The last kill left them plenty of money so they didn't need to worry about that for a while at least.

Finding him, Dean set the beers on the table and sat next to him with a smirk. Sam smiled back and put his hand on Dean's thigh, squeezing softly.

"What's got you so happy, little brother?" Dean smirked even wider behind the rim of his glass.

"Oh… nothing," Sam replied, tilting his head back to rest it against the cushioned seat. "Just enjoying the chance to relax."

Dean moved closer and nuzzled against the enticing length of Sam's throat, causing his brother to close his eyes in pleasure. "Yeah, feels good to have nothing to worry about for a few hours."

Sam made an affirmative noise then turned his head and kissed him. A moan slipped from his slightly parted lips when Dean grabbed his hair and held him close to devour his mouth. Sam sat his glass on the table then peeled Dean's from his free hand. He turned his body towards his brother to deepen the kiss, his hand slowly trailing up Dean's thigh.

Dean always tasted fantastic; sweet with a slightly rich aftertaste, like strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. And the way he just manhandled him as he saw fit made Sam's head spin.

"Dean…" Sam moaned against his lips.

He knew they were each other's world, no question about that and the very thought never failed to send heat throughout his entire body.

The kiss slowly dragged to a stop. Sam smiled with his eyes closed when he heard Dean chuckle.

 

As absorbed as they were in their own little world that only contained the two of them, they failed to notice the group of guys watching them from the bar.

* * *

Fred arrived at Joe's Pub after a long day at the station, his body screaming for a beer and his brain aching to unwind. He spotted Jack, Kyle and Morty at the bar counter, seemingly interested in one of the corners as they whispered among themselves.

 

"What's up?" exclaimed Fred, slapping Morty on the back.

"Dude!" the guy thudded him in return.

Fred asked for a beer from the bartender and settled on a stool, resting his elbows on the countertop.

"What got your panties in a twist?"

"Those motherfucking faggots over there," spat Jack, gesturing with a jerk of his hand.

Fred looked over towards the direction his friend indicated and nearly choked on his beer, sputtering and coughing. "Holy shit… it's the Winchester brothers."

"Who?"

Fred shushed Jack with a quick wave of his hand. The three guys settled around Fred, eyebrows arched at how pale their friend had become.

"It came this morning," Fred explained after a large swallow of beer. "The FBI sent message to all the police stations that they're looking for the Winchester brothers. They're accused of brutal murder and robbery and the chief made us drill their faces into our minds so we could spot them anywhere."

Jack, Kyle and Morty nodded, faces dark. Suddenly Jack widened his eyes as realization dawned on him..

"Wait… they're brothers…. and they were kissing each other just a few moments ago!" All their expressions turned disgusted. "Well Fred, what are we waiting for? Let's take those faggot murderers down."

"Not so fast." Fred shook his head. "The chief was very clear: Try to get them apart. The FBI said they're even more fatal while together."

"So, if we can distract one of them for a few seconds… we can get the other," Kyle suggested.

"And maybe we can show him a lesson before we give him to the feds," Jack added, smiling maliciously. "Then we can get the other."

"Guys…" Fred started uncertainly. As dangerous as the Winchester brothers were and what they were capable of doing, he wasn't sure that what his friends had in mind was the smartest thing to do.

"Great idea. Which one should we get?" Morty asked, ignoring his friend, his body already thrumming with excitement.

 

Fred's protests faltered. He wasn't crazy about the plan the other men were cooking up… but admittedly, he couldn't let the brothers go free, either.

 

 

TBC.


	3. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story never meant to be long. So sorry for taking this much time for such a short one. Hope you all like the ending.

After leaving the bathroom Dean went out in the back door to take a deep breath. He started to feel a little dizzy after the last beer, but he didn’t drink that much. Sam was much more excited into celebrating and was drinking happily away. Dean slid down the wall, hiding himself between two dumpsters, trying to make the dizziness go away and not be bothered.

He was taking deep breaths when he heard a commotion coming from the door he just exited. He looked discreetly and his blood ran cold when he saw two of the guys that were eyeing him earlier at the bar carrying an almost unconscious Sam. He tried to get up but his body protested and he fell down on the floor. He watched as the noise made the two guys look up around.

“What was that?”

“Probably some cat. Come on, we have to move him before he wakes up, the sleeping pills Joe gave are not that strong according to him.”

“We should probably search for the other one.”

“Fred is staying with Morty. The guy will be passed out on the bathroom at any time.”

The rest of the conversation was lost as Dean fought the black spots on his vision. Those damn fuckers tempered with their drinks! Next time, he was killing everyone in the bar before drinking with Sam.

 

Dean didn’t know how much time he spent breathing harshly and knocking his forehead with his palms to fight the drugs. Luckily he didn’t drink much the last round as Sam, so that was something. When he finally felt he could get up without toppling over, he straightened himself up and looked around the dark alley. He moved his head, stretching his neck and picked up his favorite bowie knife in one hand and his glock on the other. Time to discover where they took his little brother.

 

* * *

 

Sam woke up a little startled. When he tried to move, he felt his body immobilized. He turned his neck as far as he could and from what he could see, he was strapped across a table and inside an old warehouse. Rule number one that his brother taught him; always know your surroundings. Sam dug his nails on the table and discovered it was wood, sturdy. So he couldn’t use his weight on it; fine he would discover a way to set himself free and go back to Dean. His brother got a little anxious when they were apart. Not that he was any better.

“The bitch is up.”

The voice made Sam stretch his neck until one man entered his vision. He was in his middle forties, with a maniacal smile and a potbelly. Uhn.

“The bitch would be me?”

The smile fell off the man’s face and all he got in response was a slap on the face.

“Shut up killer, soon enough your brother will be here and you will both go to electric chair, and that’s the least you deserve.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he heard a faraway grunt, agreeing with potbelly guy. Great, he was surrounded by two idiots.

“Why didn’t you bring my brother with me?” he asked, curious.

The guy looked at him again and shrugged.

“Fred said the feds warned about getting you separate.”

Sam smiled, nodding in understanding. Well, nodding as far as he could when strapped to the table. He clenched and unclenched his hands, testing the strength of the bonds.

“My brother gets really anxious if I’m away from him for too long. Always was like that.”

“Don’t worry freak, soon enough you will both enjoy the prison together.”

There was a knock on the warehouse door, echoing around the open space. Sam closed his eyes again, smiling like a little kid.

“If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

 

Henrickson. That damn FBI agent was still on their heels. Dean, after making sure the beer wasn’t roofied again, took a long swallow, his bloodied hand living a clear print of his hand on the brown glass. A wet cough made him look at his side, where Fred was strapped to the chair, the wounds on his body making him breathe harshly.

“So…” Dean started, after quenching his thirsty. “Last chance. Where’s the two stooges took my little brother? Keep in mind that if you don’t answer, I’ll have to take you with me and start killing all this nice people you have in this picture in your wallet. Starting with your wife.”

“You…”

Dean picked up his bowie knife and pointed at Fred’s chin.

“Two options: either you die and I go after Sammy or you die, your wife dies, your children die and then I look for Sammy. What is gonna be?”

 

When Fred finally relented the location, Dean quickly cut his throat, feeling the spray of blood hit him in the face. He picked up the dirty tablecloth the bartender was using earlier and cleaned the most of it. Sighing, Dean cleaned his knife on the dead man’s shirt, put his Glock on his waistband and taking a final look at the bar, seeing the rest of the bodies spread all around, adding blood to the ground, left the place. Soon he knew the FBI would be there, contacted by Fred, and he left a little message to Agent Henrickson.

 

* * *

 

Another guy entered the warehouse and Sam almost rolled his eyes. Almost. He was busy trying to lose the rope around his wrists. The third guy approached, his expression worried.

“Fred doesn’t answer his phone. Do you think he’s already coming here?”

“Should be, he said he would call the FBI first.”

Sam couldn’t help himself, he started giggling. The three guys turned around and walked towards him, stopping at his line of sight.

“What are you giggling about freak?”

“You left one little deputy and a bartender to pick up my brother? Oh boy.”

“What that’s supposed to mean?”

Sam closed his eyes, and began to hum quietly.

“My brother killed your little friend and your little barkeep. Now one, two, Dean is coming for you…three, four, better lock your door…”

Morty silenced him with a punch on his mouth. Sam laughed out loud, showing his bloodied teeth.

"Hell, this freak is off his rockets.”

“Fucking his own brother probably made him that way.”

“Yep. And Dean gives it to me **_so_** good…” answered Sam, now just smiling.

“Shut the fuck up! Kyle, get the duct tape!”

Kyle hurried out of the warehouse to comply. Sam starting humming again, with no lyrics this time. Morty and Jack took a step back, trying to get rid of the uneasy feeling being near the younger Winchester brought. A few minutes later there was a thump on the door and Jack went to open.

“Kyle, why do I have to…” his voice died on his throat when a bowie knife pierced through one of his eyeballs.

Kyle dead stared watched as he fell on the ground, screaming. Dean threw Kyle aside, his slashed throat still spraying blood and smiled, stopping his look at Morty who was trembling as he tried to pick up a shotgun.

“Pitiful mistake you did there, pal.” Said Dean as raised his Glock and shot him in the head.

“Hey Dean.”

 

The older Winchester rolled his eyes and went to the table where Sam was strapped, one his wrists almost loose. In two quick successions, he freed his brother. Sam untied his feet and sat on the table, pulling Dean between his spread legs.

“You took your sweet time. I thought I would die of boredom.”

“I’m sorry if I was trying to not get caught when I drank the same roofied drink as you. By the way…next time we drink inside the hotel room.”

“You are no fun sometimes.”

“Shut up, I just saved your ass.”

Sam laughed and kissed him soundly.

“My hero.”

“And I discovered that that bitch Henrickson is still after us.”

“Uhn…what we should do about that?”

 

* * *

 

Jack was in agonizing pain, he tried to use one of his hands to get any kind of weapon on the floor while his other hand tried to stop his eyeball from spilling more blood. Suddenly a boot stomped his free hand on the ground. He screamed as another wave of pain crashed into him and looked up. Both Winchester brothers were staring at him with detachment.

“Do you think he will do?” asked the shorter one, the one who stabbed him.

The smile the taller one gave sent chills down Jack’s spine.

“Oh, I can work with that.”

 

The next thirty minutes were the worst of the rest of Jack’s life.

 

* * *

 

“FBI, we have this place surrounded!”

Henrickson was using a megaphone as the whole contingent positioned themselves around the abandoned warehouse.

 

After they had the yellow alarm for the Winchester brothers, they went to the bar indicated by deputy Fred. What they found there was another nightmarish scenario; blood splattered everywhere, two bodies almost torn to pieces and Fred strapped to a chair, several wound and a slashed throat. In his lapel, a piece of paper was pinned there with great care to not get the blood from his shirt.

 

**_Do you think you can catch us next time? If yes, come running to the warehouse on Worthmore road, 156._ **

**_D Winchester_ **

Now they were at the mentioned warehouse and they could hear screams inside the place. If the Winchester brothers were still inside, they were having their fun with someone and Henrickson would stop that for good.

He repeated the warning again and nobody answered from inside. With a team of five police officers from SWAT, they entered the place, smashing the heavy metal door open. There was more blood everywhere, two bodies on the floor and one strapped to a sturdy wooden table, twitching.

“Search for those bastards.”

“Roger.”

While the SWAT searched the place, Henrickson approached cautiously the table. The man was barely alive, his body full of knife cuts, one of the eyes, missing. On is stomach a tablet was resting on it, showing a video of what the Winchester brothers were doing here earlier, with that poor man. When Sam finished the last cut on the body, he turned to the camera filming him and smiled, his teeth slightly stained with blood. It was a terrifying sight. A voice from behind the footage spoke.

 

‘ _Now, what do you have to say for the video, Sammy?’_

_The tall man straightened up and put the knife on the table. He approached the video and appeared to pick up the camera on his hands. Soon only his face was on the screen._

_‘Dear Agent Henrickson. It’s been while since you are a pain in our asses. And not in the fun way.’ A snicker could be heard in the background. ‘So, when you watch this video, you are late for the party. Again. But this time, me and my brother decided to leave you with a parting gift.’_

_He turned the camera around and showed Dean beside the body on the table. He waved with one hand and with the other he was holding a makeshift bomb._

Henrickson widened his eyes when he saw Dean putting the bomb inside the hole he made on the body, the same size as the tablet’s. He started screaming for the SWAT to retreat. Sam’s face smiled at him again.

 

_'Kaboom.’_

 

* * *

Sam’s eyes sparkled when he saw the big ball of fire appear in the sky, blowing up the warehouse. He moaned, trying to keep his eyes open, his fingers tightening on Dean’s hair, the older currently on his knees, sucking him off. He felt Dean speed up and his whole body trembled, the heat being felt even from where they were hiding in the woods nearby.

“Dean…”

Dean’s hands squeezing his thighs was the only answer he got and soon Sam came, gasping and he felt his brother swallowing him. Dean cleaned him after he finished and got up, partially clouding his vision of the explosion as he kissed him. Sam moaned louder, feeling his taste on his brother’s tongue.

“That was awesome.”

Dean laughed and kissed him one more time, before tucking him inside his jeans and closing the zipper. His own erection was pressing painfully against his clothes, but he would take care of it, later.

“I’m assuming no more Henrickson.”

“Yeah, the last thing I heard on the cellphone feed was him screaming to his guys to get out. I guess we killed some other officers too.”

“Oops.”

Sam smiled and pushed his brother back just enough for him to walk towards the door of the Impala, the license plate now from Canada. They would be taking some vacation times in the north. Now that they didn’t have an agent on their ass. For now.

 

Soon Dean joined him inside the car and with a proud roar, the Impala sped up on the highway, leaving the smell of smoke, blood and dead behind. With nothing but the open road and the world at their feet, the Winchesters drove. Just Dean and Sam against the world. And they were going to burn it.

 

 

 

**END**


End file.
